


Occluded Front

by Batsutousai



Series: Tales of the Fairy Men [4]
Category: British Actor RPF, Den grimme Ælling | The Ugly Duckling - Hans Christian Andersen, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Homelessness, M/M, Panhandling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki grew up knowing it was by the grace of his father that he hadn't been killed, and that his father was the only person who wanted him alive. When Laufey finally dies, Loki has to find another reason to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Occluded Front

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The characters of Thomas "Tom" Hiddleston is based on a real person, and no offence is intended; this is only for the amusement of myself and other like-minded (read: mentally ill) fans.  
>  'Logan Greene' as a name for Loki is borrowed from [@PrincelySecrets](https://twitter.com/PrincelySecrets) with permission.
> 
> **A/N:** This is part of a series of fics based on [a challenge](http://batsutousai.tumblr.com/post/38980067347) to write your OTP using various fairy tales. And colours. Twelve fics, one per month, for the entirety of 2013.  
>  April's prompt is _The Ugly Duckling_ with the colour pink.
> 
> Like with February's prompt, I was having trouble working everyone into the actual fairy tale, so this is more the real world with fairy tale overtones.  
> That said, Loki's childhood is AU to Marvel's world.

If Loki hadn't had magic, he would have been killed at birth. Jötnar had no use or want for new members that couldn't see to themselves, and Loki's small stature made him just that. So Laufey had argued for his right to live, and he got his wish because he was their king, and because he'd been there to stay Fárbauti's hand, to tell off Helblindi when he whispered about seeing his tiny brother dead. 

As Loki had grown, his magic had grown with him, until he was actually _useful_ to his father. He was able to stave off the worst of the damage from the missing Casket, and so the court was a little less hateful towards him. 

That said, it came as no surprise to _anyone_ when Laufey died and Helblindi and Býleistr immediately banded together to kick Loki out of the citadel. Fárbauti, never having found the same use for Loki as her mate had, didn't raise a hand to stop them, though she didn't help scare him away either. 

Loki went with no complaint beyond insisting they give him time to collect some of his belongings. Jewellery to trade with those living in the smaller villages, furs to keep his smaller form warm, a couple books and his favourite staff to keep up with his magic. And then, after stealing some meat from the kitchens, he left through the front doors with his head held high, refusing to show weakness to those who were happy to see him gone. 

He spent near forty years travelling from outlying village to outlying village, spending years at a time living in the wilds, tussling with what animals he could. Few cared for him, for he was so small, but he brought food and fur to trade, and sometimes would part with some of the pieces of gold, or cast some small spell to put off the damage to their world just a little bit longer. 

It was a mix of chance and hard work that he found one of the ever-moving accesses to Yggdrasil, and he fell into it without looking back. 

He fell for what seemed an eternity before landing in a place that was so much green. He stared down at the soft green that he'd landed on, brushing his fingers over the rising tendrils of it. Around him towered great pillars of brown and green, small creatures making noises of welcome from far above him. And far, far above stretched an expanse of pale blue, like the colour of Jötnar skin, and Loki stared up at it in awe for a long moment. 

Finally, the peace broken by voices, Loki peered out between the green barrier that hid him from the rest of this realm. Some bipedal beings were walking at a distance, chatting in what must be their language. Their skin was pink, like Loki had been taught the Æsir appeared, but they carried no weapons, wore no shining gold or silver armour. Rather, they wore cloth, thin and easily ripped. 

_Midgard, then,_ Loki recognised. This was the land his father had tried to conquer, only to be stopped by Odin and his warriors. It was a land of the weak, but those weak were protected. Still, Loki could cause some small troubles. 

But only if he appeared as them. A whispered spell and a twist of one gold-adorned wrist found him appearing as a Midgardian, pink-skinned and all. 

His furs were comfortable against this new skin, still cold from his Jötunn form, but Loki knew they would soon be too hot for this world. He wondered how he might barter without knowledge of their customs or language, and sighed. 

Well, he supposed he could always _steal_ what he needed. 

-0-

Midgard was a confusing realm, much changed from how his father had described it. Still, it took but a couple hours for Loki to discover a clothing store and procure himself some garments. He chose green, for it was the first colour he had seen upon arriving, and a glance in a mirror showed that his eyes had naturally turned that colour, though Loki would have preferred his eyes to remain red. His hair, at least, remained the same black, hanging long to his arse and tangled with golden ornaments and some of the brown and green from where he'd landed. (Loki liked the hint of brown and green, though it didn't seem to be a common look for this realm, and so he left them in, ignoring any odd looks.) 

It was odd, he thought, walking through beings that shared his height. He was so used to dodging legs – or sexual offers – and now he was bumping shoulders or brushing arms. He could see expressions without having to look up, up, up. 

He liked it, he decided, finding a place to sit and settling to watch the Midgardians walk past. He kept his ears open, listening for strains of their language, leaving his mind open to learn and translate. 

By the end of his first day on Midgard, Loki was capable enough with the language to find signs to a place of lodging. There, he stumbled over this new language to try bartering for a bed for the night, offering first his furs, then his magic. The man laughed at the mention of magic and had Loki removed from the building by two burly men in uniform. 

Loki huffed and tried two more buildings, facing the same response at each, before giving up and returning to the little spot of green that he'd first arrived in. 

His next few days followed the same, with him finding a place to sit, then listening to the language – or language _s_ , he discovered after another day – to learn it. He retired each night to that small place of green, comfortable sleeping with his furs and the green padding that covered the ground. He was forced to scrounge for food, stealing it from vendors or bins when no one was looking. 

It was his sixth day in the realm that he learned of the paper currency the Midgardians used to trade. He'd seen it before, of course, and heard talk of it, but it had taken him time to connect its purpose; what sort of beings would declare value to some scraps of paper or small bits of metal, but would turn down furs or gold? 

He did finally find someone willing to take his furs, trading them for some of the paper currency. He kept his gold on the suggestion of a kindly, elder Midgardian, who suggested he look into one who dealt in gold for it, rather than attempting to sell everything to one man. 

Loki found a gold dealer then, following the old Midgardian's directions to a shop, and traded some of his larger pieces, ones that caught eyes a little too obviously for his comfort living in the park as he was. Magic could help some in keeping his belongings safe, but given how Midgardians seemed to have no belief in magic, Loki didn't wish to – as he'd heard one say – 'push his luck'. 

Armed with currency, Loki finally had chance to sample a true Midgardian meal and sleep in a bed. The food was wonderful, and the beds were almost as comfortable as those back in the citadel. Loki loved it and he took great pleasure in sleeping in one for so long as his currency held out. 

He learned to stand on a corner and beg for currency, the sticks and leaves in his hair giving credit to his soulful expression. He learned to keep his eyes sharp for dropped coins or lost objects that could be sold. He developed a skill for finding lost pets, using his magic to track them down and see them to their homes. He learned when to scrounge for food and when to splurge, determined to keep the soft bed he'd found at the end of the day. 

He learned to survive on his own, again, and he _thrived_.

-0-

It was five years before people started doing double takes at his appearance. 

"Aren't you Tom Hiddleston?" one young woman asked as she dropped a five pound note in his cup. 

Loki blinked at her. "I do not know that name," he replied, taking the note from the cup and slipping it into a pocket for safety; there were only so many times he could run after some fool thinking to steal the paper currency from him before it became tedious. 

"He's an actor," she explained, eyes wide. "You look just like he did for _Thor_ , with that black hair." 

"Thor," Loki repeated blandly. Wasn't that the name of Odin's eldest son? The one who was closest to Loki in age. 

"Yeah! The film, you know? It came out earlier this... Oh." She flushed and hunched her shoulders a bit. "I don't suppose you've really had opportunity to go to a cinema, have you? Here." She reached into her purse and pulled out a ten pound note. "Go to the cinema around the block, get yourself a popcorn or something, too. Lunch and a good film, on me." She smiled at him. 

Loki carefully slipped the paper away, next to the five pound note from before, and offered her a helpless sort of smile. "I thank you for your kindness." 

"Just go see the film. You'll see what I mean." She tipped him a wink. "Get a haircut and you might get some extra hand-outs from people thinking you're really him." 

Loki didn't know about cutting his hair – it was the only thing he was truly vain about, beyond the markings of his Jötunn form – but he did use the ten pound note to buy himself a seat and a large container of popcorn. 

The popcorn was good, the film odd (but interesting enough), and Loki could see how people might mistake him for the actor. 

An idea formed in his mind that night, and Loki borrowed a computer at the local library to find out where this Tom Hiddleston might be right then. It appeared he was filming a sequel to _Thor_ in another country. Which, really, was entirely too perfect. A teleportation spell and a particularly dangerous 'accident' for Hiddleston's stunt double, Paul Lacovara, gave Loki the perfect chance to meet the actor. 

"It's _uncanny_ how much like Tom he looks," Loki heard whispered of him as he performed the simple stunts they'd given him to test with. They'd been unimpressed when he'd come in with no résumé and a fake name, but his similarity to Hiddleston had them giving him a chance anyway. 

Between his natural mobility and his magic, Loki easily managed to wow them all. They told him to wait a couple days for any other interested souls, but his spot was pretty much certain and they all knew it. 

He took his days of silence to procure a bank account – as he was warned that would be a necessity – and some paperwork proving him human that would pass scrutiny. An address was harder to come by, but he had enough cash from begging on the streets to get a room at a nearby hostel – much like he'd done where he'd first appeared – and they agreed that he could use their address for so long as he could pay for his room. 

Finally, news came from the filming crew; Loki had the spot and was to report the next day to learn his duties. 

It was almost a month before he met Hiddleston. Someone – or _many_ someones, more likely – had warned the human of Loki's similarity to him, but he still did a double take when he met Loki on set, both of them in costume. Loki could understand the reaction, had wondered if there wasn't a mirror for a moment, but he got over it quickly, walking forward with one hand extended. "Mr Hiddleston," he said, voice silky and polite. 

Hiddleston smiled, bright and wide, and took Loki's hand in a surprisingly strong grip. "And you must be Mr Greene. Please, call me Tom." 

"Likewise, I prefer Logan." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Logan," Hiddleston said, sounding honestly pleased. "Ready to get to work?" 

Loki was and they did. 

-0-

Hiddleston was always polite, but he had a somewhat secret love of dirty jokes and a better-known love of imitations. He would regularly start talking like another person – sometimes a person on set, sometimes another famous actor he liked – and it was always something of a toss-up whether you would catch him talking like himself or someone else. 

It took him almost two months to figure out Loki's accent and the timber of their voices was similar enough that people were often uncertain whether they were talking to Hiddleston or 'Logan'. Only their eyes set them apart and Hiddleston's eyes could occasionally catch the light just the right way to appear green, so even that was a questionable tell. 

One evening, after another successful scene and some inability to tell Loki and Hiddleston apart, the human cornered Loki outside their trailers. "You should try my accent," he insisted. "Imagine if you could pull it off and–"

"Who says I can't?" Loki asked in a perfect imitation of Hiddleston's accent. 

The human blinked a couple of times, then he grinned widely. " _That_ is fantastic. How long had you been able to do that?" 

Loki shrugged. "The entire time." It was very similar to the one he'd been surrounded with until he'd joined the filming crew. 

Hiddleston laughed, delighted. "That's _wonderful_! Have you ever tried convincing someone you were me?" 

Loki shifted. "Once or twice," he allowed, always careful about admitting that he still had to beg for currency on the streets to pay for his room, the phone he'd bought to be easily reachable, and the diet the set trainers insisted he keep up with. The money he was being paid was impressive, given his lack of experience, but it didn't always cover everything. 

Being a human, Loki was coming to discover, was far harder than living on the outskirts of Jötnar society. 

"You'll have to tell me all about it," Hiddleston insisted, nudging Loki with his elbow. "I tell you all the time when I do it to someone. We can do dinner and–"

"Not tonight, I'm afraid," Loki replied smoothly. He needed to get some extra money to pay for his room that week. "I have a prior engagement." 

Hiddleston frowned. "You always say that when I try inviting you out," he said with the air of one who'd been long bothered by the problem. "Do you...not like me or something?" 

"Nothing of the sort, I assure you," Loki promised, and he _did_ enjoy Hiddleston's company. He enjoyed the company of many of the Midgardians on the set, in truth, and would have loved to go out on their weekend travels to one of the area bars, had he the currency for such. "I am simply busy often." 

Hiddleston worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "Okay," he agreed and stepped back. "I'll see you tomorrow?" 

"Of course. A good evening, Tom." 

"Yeah." 

Loki quickly cleaned up and changed, then made for the hostel, waving at his fellow workers when they called out to him, his green shirt a dead giveaway as to who he was. (Hiddleston favoured blue and Loki always wore something green. If they _truly_ wanted to confuse their fellows, they would need to switch colours, or both come in wearing something neutral.) 

He returned to his hostel, sneaking past the front desk while the watcher was busy with whatever mind-numbing thing was playing on the large screen against one wall. Loki had found that many of those sitting at the desk liked to chat with those residents staying long term, especially him, due to his work. So he made a point to move past without being seen as often as he could. 

In his room, he changed into the torn, dirty clothing he usually wore for pleading on the streets and used a bit of the makeup he'd stolen from set to give himself a tired, dirty appearance. Some quick magic changed the style of his hair; he wasn't so crazy as to go out looking _exactly_ as Hiddleston would be in this film, wary of the company's ire should they think to connect the beggar on the other side of the country with their newest stunt double. 

Finished, he grabbed the familiar old cup, dropped a couple of coins in the bottom for effect, then teleported away from the city to see what currency he might collect from the kindly souls that walked the streets late at night. 

He managed enough after a few hours and teleported back to his room, tired from a long day's work and the use of magic. 

"Holy shit," a voice said from behind Loki. 

The Jötunn spun, a dagger of ice forming in his hand with but a thought. Sitting on the floor, a chicken sandwich and chips spread out on a wrapper next to him, sat Hiddleston, blue eyes wide. 

Loki stared at him for a long moment before dropping the hand with the weapon, which melted back into his skin. "How did you get in?" he asked, voice tired. 

Hiddleston swallowed. "Told the front desk I'd forgotten my key. How did you–? No." He shook his head. 

"I have no interest in speaking tonight, Tom," Loki informed him as he turned away to hide his cup and the currency he'd collected in the drawer he kept it in. 

"Your hand is still blue," Hiddleston said quietly. 

Loki glanced down at the hand the ice dagger had formed in, eyes tracing the familiar patterns of darker blue on his skin. He took a deep breath and willed it away. Though it hardly mattered, at this point. 

"I'd wondered," Hiddleston said after another moment of silence, Loki refusing to turn and look at him. "That accident... Paul is careful and so is the crew. That shouldn't have happened. And then you, out of nowhere..." 

Loki clenched his jaw and started towards the en suite bathroom he shared with the room next door. They'd worked out a system when he'd first moved in, to keep from any awkward meetings, and all signs pointed to it being empty. 

"Should I call you Loki?" Hiddleston asked before Loki could close the door, suddenly right behind the Jötunn. 

Loki spun and grabbed the human's chin, smiling wide and a little cruel when Hiddleston flinched from the chill that was crawling over Loki's skin. "When I said I had no interest in speaking, Tom, that was your cue to _leave_."

Hiddleston met his gaze head on, refusing to flinch as red bled into Loki's eyes. "I don't walk away from my friends," he said, quiet and firm. "Especially not when they walk away from me." 

"You are a _fool_ ," Loki snarled and let the human go. 

"Suppose I must be," Hiddleston agreed, watching as Loki's skin bled back to pink so he could scrub the makeup off. " _Are_ you Loki, then?" 

"Not the Loki of your tales," he allowed, exhaustion creeping over him again. "I am raised Jötunn. I have never been to Asgard, nor have I met Thor or Odin, though my father told truly crazed stories of his plans for the Allfather, should they ever again meet." 

Hiddleston licked his lips. "You have a human skin, though?" 

Loki shook his head. "Shapeshifting comes naturally to many Jötnar. Once we see another species, should they be of equitable size, taking their form is simple." 

Hiddleston nodded. "Why are you–?"

"I am tired, Tom," Loki insisted, turning to give the human a look. 

Hiddleston licked his lips again. "I've an extra sandwich, hold the mayo?" 

Well. That was certainly tempting, and Loki hadn't eaten in almost five hours. He would regret falling into bed without having eaten far more than he would dealing with this interrogation after his long day. "Very well," he allowed. 

Hiddleston smiled at him, wide and bright, and led the way back to the corner he'd been eating in. Another sandwich and paper container of chips were drawn from the food bag, then handed over to Loki once he'd settled against the wall within reach of the human. 

Hiddleston waited until Loki had taken a couple large bites before asking, "Why are you here then? On Earth?" 

Loki sighed and picked through his chips, explaining, "My father, Laufey, died some many years past. My people have no love for a runt, so I was banished. In my wanderings, I found a passage to Yggdrasil. It led to your realm." 

Hiddleston considered that for a moment, then asked, "What did you do before? Before finding your way into this job I mean." 

Loki paused, his stomach rolling. To try and explain or not to? 

"Loki?" 

"I survive in a manner that inconveniences as few humans as possible, as many of your race do," Loki settled on. 

"That...wasn't the answer I was expecting," Hiddleston admitted. 

Loki flashed him a smile, sharp with too many teeth. "I know what you were expecting." He looked back to the last couple bites of his sandwich and sighed. "I am no God of Mischief and Lies, Tom. I do not look to leave chaos in my wake. In truth, I am happiest when I am overlooked." 

"So, why come here? Why get your name – or, well, a fake name – on the bill for a major film?" 

Loki snorted and shot the human an amused look. "Have you any knowledge of how difficult it is to remain unnoticed when you share my face?" 

Hiddleston flushed and ducked his head. "Oh, right. Sorry." 

Loki shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I am here now and it suits me well enough." 

Hiddleston smiled. "I'm glad." 

-0-

It was in Cleveland that Hiddleston finally found out about Loki's begging for money. 

"I'm just having a hard time wrapping my head around _why_ ," the human admitted, stalking the length of Loki's hostel room while the Jötunn counted through the money he'd collected just before. Like on the day Hiddleston had discovered who he was, the human had been waiting for him in his room when Loki returned, offering food to keep Loki from kicking him out. 

"I am an unknown stunt performer; you truly believe they pay me enough to live in these cities?" Loki returned dryly. "Even the cheapest of hostels are expensive when one must keep to a diet and retain a phone for emergency calls." 

Hiddleston threw his arms in the air and dropped down on the floor next to the Jötunn, leaning his shoulder against Loki's back. "You need an agent." 

"You assume I have intention to seek out such work again." 

"Don't you?" Hiddleston leaned forward so he could eye Loki's profile. "You're good at it, flexible and far more durable than any human. It's something you could do that's not begging for money on the streets." 

Loki sniffed. "I have no idea how I would even go about finding such an agent." 

"I'll help," Hiddleston immediately replied, not a hint of hesitation in his voice. "We can get you references from the crew, people that will happily say that you're good at your job and worth an agent's time." He bumped his shoulder against Loki's. "We probably can't renegotiate your current contract with Marvel, but it'll set you up for the future and you'll probably have a job waiting for you as soon as we're done, that way." 

Loki glanced over at the human, taking in his hopeful expression and the smile lighting his face. "Very well..." 

Hiddleston's face, against all possibilities, brightened even further. "Awesome! We can get started on that tomorrow, then. For today." He jumped to his feet, tugging at Loki's shoulder to get him off the floor. "Pack your stuff." 

Loki turned to the human with a cold stare. "Ex _cuse_ me." 

Hiddleston rolled his eyes and ducked down to start picking up Loki's hard-earned currency. "Pack your things. My hotel room's big enough for two, and then you're not scrounging to keep your room." 

"I was under the impression you were attached," Loki said stiffly, knowing how difficult women could get when they discovered another sharing space with their mate. 

Hiddleston shook his head. "Susannah? She's got work back in England." He glanced up, amusement bright in his eyes. "Unless the idea of listening to me call her every few nights to make a fool of myself bothers you?" 

Loki took a moment to weigh his options, then he sighed and tiredly stated, "And how would that differ from any other day?" 

Hiddleston grinned, wide and knowing. 

-0-

With an agent searching for him, Loki did, indeed, have a job waiting for him when _The Avengers_ finished shooting. 

"Keep in touch," Hiddleston ordered as he helped Loki pack his bags before his flight. 

Loki rolled his eyes, torn somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Of course." 

"And you know you've got a place to stay if you're ever in London," the human continued. 

"I'm aware." 

"And if you have _any_ problems–"

"Tom!" Loki shouted, a laugh making his voice jump. 

Hiddleston glanced up at him, smiling a bit sheepishly. "You already know all this." 

Loki shook his head and bumped his shoulder with the human. "I do," he agreed. "You have said it all often enough this past week." 

"I'm just worried," Hiddleston defended. 

Loki sighed and turned the human so he could lean their foreheads together. "I have survived far greater difficulties than this. Desist your concern on my behalf." 

"Not possible," Hiddleston insisted. 

"Then be quieter about it before I find a way to silence you." 

Hiddleston chuckled and pulled away to return to Loki's bags. "I'm sorry." 

"No, you're not." 

"No, I'm not." 

They traded glances and both started laughing at the same time. 

Loki wasn't _quite_ late for his flight, but it was a near thing. 

-0-

Loki didn't see Hiddleston again until February, when they both managed to be in London at the same time. They'd kept up through phone calls and emails – Loki had bought himself a computer for Christmas as a celebration for having the extra currency – but there was nothing quite like meeting again after months without seeing each other. 

Loki had already been in town for a week when Hiddleston arrived, and he wasn't as surprised as he probably should have been when, over dinner out at one of Hiddleston's favourite restaurants, the human insisted that Loki come to stay at his flat. 

Hiddleston was equally unsurprised when Loki didn't even put up a token fight. 

Loki made himself at home in Hiddleston's guest room and they spent that first week falling back into that easy companionship they'd shared while living together in Cleveland. Their second week was filled with great fun as Loki was introduced around to Hiddleston's local friends and family, continuing the ever-amusing game of watching others get them confused. 

The night of the twenty-fifth – or maybe it was more the morning of the twenty-sixth, it was hard to tell, that time of night – Loki was woken by a body climbing into bed with him. The other smelled of alcohol and the cologne Hiddleston had sprayed on before he'd run out the door earlier that evening for the Jameson Empire Awards. 

Loki relaxed slightly at the scent, the ice dagger that had come to hand melting back into his skin. "Tom," he said, reaching up to card his fingers through the human's short curls. 

Hiddleston raised his head until he could rest his forehead against Loki's, their breaths mingling between them. "You're really, really attractive," the human mumbled. 

"And you are quite drunk," Loki replied, moving to lever himself up. "Let's get you to your own bed." 

Hiddleston clung to him the entire way and he kept rubbing his cheek against Loki's shoulder or hiding his face against Loki's throat. The Jötunn wasn't quite certain how to take these actions, so he determined he would ignore them and set about stripping Hiddleston of his suit and tucking him in. 

When Loki made to return to his own room, however, Hiddleston clamped one hand on his wrist and refused to let go, complaining, "I'm so _wrong_! They don't even know it and they gave me an award and I'm wrong and you're going to leave me too–"

"I am leaving you to _sleep_ , you miserable creature," Loki snapped, turning to try prying Hiddleston's hand from him without hurting the human. 

Hiddleston turned pitiful blue eyes on him, barely visible in the light from the street. "Stay. Loki... Loki, stay. Don't leave me. I don't want to be al-lone again." 

Loki sighed. So, this was about Susannah. He'd thought the human well past that parting. "Tom, I'm just going to the next room." 

Hiddleston shook his head and tugged on Loki's wrist, scooting over to make room in his own bed for the Jötunn. 

Loki rubbed the bridge of his nose and breathed out a couple rough curses in the language of his people, but he did, eventually, slide into the bed next to the human. 

Hiddleston immediately curled closer, his head on Loki's chest, and was asleep before Loki realised it. 

The Jötunn sighed and resigned himself to sleeping with the warm weight on his chest. 

-0-

"I had thought you over Susannah," Loki said the next morning when he found his host in the kitchen. 

Hiddleston groaned and covered his ears. "Loud." 

Loki shook his head and stopped behind the human. Placing his hands at either side of Hiddleston's neck, he pushed some soothing magic into him, easing the symptoms of his hangover. 

Hiddleston sighed and twisted in his chair to curl against Loki's stomach. "I love you," he mumbled. 

Then the human tensed, pulling away from the Jötunn. 

Loki had been willing to pass the words off as a simple thanks between friends, but Hiddleston's reaction had him thinking differently and he crouched down next to the human, watching the way Hiddleston refused to meet his eyes. "Tom," he said, and the human flinched, "what is going through your head?" 

Hiddleston bit his lip and ducked his face closer to his chest, so Loki couldn't see his expression without getting much closer than was polite. 

Loki cast his mind back to what he remembered of the human's mumbling from the night before. There had been something about Loki being attractive and people hating Hiddleston? He'd seemed certain Loki would leave him for some reason, and that last, _'I don't want to be al-lone again.'_

Loki had thought of Susannah and with his mind still on that track, it wasn't hard to jump to another thought, one that caught in his throat. 

"What?" he breathed. 

Hiddleston's head came forward just enough that terrified blue eyes could catch with wide green. The human reached out a hand towards Loki, but he stopped just shy of touching the Jötunn's hair. Something broken and hateful glinted in his eyes and he said, "It's wrong. I know it's wrong." 

Loki flinched and he surged to his feet, stalking away a few steps before spinning to glare at the human. "Oh, of _course_ it's wrong," he said, voice as cold as the sharpest winds of Jötunheimr. "I am nothing but wrong. Too small, too weak, too–"

"Loki, _no_!" Hiddleston cried, getting to his own feet and taking a step towards Loki. When the Jötunn snarled at him, he froze, turning his broken gaze on Loki. "I mean, I–" He took a breath that shuddered with an emotion Loki was too angry to read. "Two men, looking exactly alike? People would talk. They would– No one would accept it. It's wrong, so _completely_ wrong and I shouldn't–"

Loki felt his anger draining with every word, understanding and a heavy ache taking its place. "Then I will leave. You will have no temptation, give no cause for mutterings–"

"I _shouldn't_ ," Hiddleston interrupted, clasping shaking hands in front of him. He let out a helpless little laugh and shook his head before looking back up and catching Loki's gaze. "I'm a hypocrite, you know. I said... I said it once, on camera, that I thought it was better to follow your heart, than let the expectations of others lead you. And here I am now, terrified because I can't stand to lose you, but I'm afraid of what people will say, of all the anger and disgust that will rain down on me. On _both_ of us." 

He looked away then, down to his clasped hands, and tucked his fingers a little tighter together. "I don't even... I feel like such a _tit_. Because I'm just, I've just sprung this on you. Haven't even asked your thoughts, whether you feel anything or if it's all just me being some stupid human and falling in, in lust or in love or I don't even really know, but..." His eyes flickered up towards Loki, helpless and hopeful and everything a god could ever wish to find aimed at them, Loki rather thought, though he was no god. "We humans are always so very good at wanting the unattainable." 

Loki swallowed, everything a tangled mess in his head. 

He thought of words, twisting and twining around each other to form stories, written and spoken. Of the movements of people following a script and the play of emotions across their features. Of those who listened and watched, who bowed their heads to hide tears that Loki could never quite understand. 

Loki had never known love, had barely known what it meant to be useful enough to be kept nearby. Too small, too weak, he had never enjoyed kindness, had never been faced with the emotions in Hiddleston's eyes. He wasn't sure what to do with them, wasn't sure if he had the _right_ to them. 

But he knew what he _didn't_ want. He didn't want to walk away, didn't want to lose the first real connection he'd ever made. He didn't want to be left staring at a dead phone in the middle of the night, or to go back to wandering the streets of this realm like a ghost, only remembered because another shared his face. 

Everything in Loki said he needed to step forward, to take what Hiddleston was offering, if only to keep from losing what he had. So he did, reaching out one hand to meet the hand Hiddleston immediately extended to him. Their fingers entwined, mirror images fitting together. 

"I don't know what I feel," Loki admitted as Hiddleston pressed against him, both of their free arms moving like it was natural to wrap around the other. "I don't know. But I don't, I _can't_ walk away." He swallowed a lump in his throat, a sensation entirely foreign. "You're all I have," he whispered, and he wasn't even certain it had been English. 

Hiddleston seemed to understand, though, nudging his nose against the hinge of Loki's jaw. "We'll figure it out. Together," he breathed, a fan of warmth against Loki's ear. 

Loki thought that might be okay. 

-0-

The stillness of the afternoon was broken by a shatter in the sky and the sudden sweep of cold over the university green. Other humans looked around in confusion, but Loki tensed and looked up at where the giant form of his younger brother was stepping into Midgard, two warriors like guards at his back. 

"What the fuck?" one of the crew snapped. Others backed away or turned cameras on the too-tall forms. 

Býleistr looked around, staring over the huddle of humans with red eyes filled with desperation and something that might have been terror. "Loki!" he boomed, voice carrying to all in view and many too far away. "Loki, I would speak with you!" 

Loki frowned and made to step from the trailer he and Hiddleston had been talking in, but the human grabbed his arm, shook his head, and pushed out ahead. "What do you want with him?" he called up to the Jötunn. 

Býleistr squinted at the human, then leaned down a bit to get a better look at him. "Do not address me, little mortal, lest I see fit to squish you like the insect you are." 

Loki shoved from the trailer, eyes blazing red and his skin changing without a thought, reacting to the threat to his lover. "You would not _dare_ ," he snarled, resisting the urge to throw an ice dagger at his brother once he was between Býleistr and Hiddleston. 

Býleistr blinked at him. "Loki, it is good to see you well." 

"Save me your hollow platitudes, Býleistr, and tell me what you want." 

His brother shifted. "Helblindi sent me to bring you home." 

"I am quite at home here, thank you." 

Býleistr looked somewhere between nervous and scared. "Back to the citadel, brother." 

Loki smiled, sharp and cold. "Family ties? Something has happened then. Something you need my magics for." He took a moment to search the surprise and fear in Býleistr's eyes, then guessed, "Jötunheimr's slow death has reached your walls." 

Býleistr's flinch answered that even as the younger Jötunn said, "Your people _need_ you, Loki." 

"My people would have seen me _dead_ ," Loki replied, the edges of his smile as cutting as his most deadly dagger. "You banished me upon pain of death, so I left. And that little sorcerer our father kept as his pet has _died_. I am all that remains and I would not help you even if I _could_."

"Loki, _please_. Have you no compassion left for _any_ Jöt–"

"Perhaps you misheard me, Býleistr," Loki interrupted coolly. "You left it _too late_. There was a reason Father always sent me out at the first sign of damage. I cannot heal your realm any more than you can. You will have to treat with Odin Allfather if you wish to survive, and I wish you all the luck in that endeavour." 

Býleistr straightened, eyes burning with anger and defeat. "You useless little–"

"Hey!" Hiddleston shouted from behind Loki, voice hot with anger. "It's about time you learned to stop insulting potential allies. Or do you honestly think Odin will react favourably to you commenting on his height?" 

Loki made a complicated motion, reopening the closed portal the three Jötnar had come through. "You have more important matters to be attending to, _brother_ ," he said, ice and hate dripping from the last word. 

As the Jötnar vanished back to Yggdrasil's embrace, Loki felt his skin bleed back to the now-familiar pink, Hiddleston at his back, warm and safe and home.

..


End file.
